


Escape From Paradise

by Savannah_Elyse



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, jared leto - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Colombia - Freeform, Crime, Escape, Gen, Jared Leto - Freeform, Survival, Violence, mature - Freeform, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savannah_Elyse/pseuds/Savannah_Elyse
Summary: Tom Hiddleston and Jared Leto are filming a new movie together in Colombia. When the production and crew are attacked by angry locals and Tom, Jared, and their assistants find themselves in the middle of a revolt, they must fight to escape certain death.This story features graphic depictions of violence. Please do not read if that offends you.This work is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or existing characters is purely coincidental. No copyright infringement intended.





	1. One

"Reports coming out of Bogota, Colombia this morning detail an increasing tension between the militant group, Ejército Rojo and the Colombian government. Reports indicate that the group is rising dramatically in numbers, picking up locals as it makes its way out of the countryside. Colombian officials are saying that the group is under control; however the number of their attacks on cities is growing. Locals are imploring the government to step in and send in reinforcements to help them defend their villages and towns, but no help has come so far," the woman's British accent echoed out of the flat screen television in Tom's living room.

He was rushing about his London home, throwing things into a pile on the floor near several suitcases. He carried a pair of gym shoes over to the pile and knelt next to it, beginning to fill one of the suitcases with clothing. His mother was sitting on the sofa, distractedly folding t-shirts as she watched the BBC news broadcast on the television. Tom took the shirt from her hands and refolded it before placing it on top of the pile.

"Are you sure it's safe for you to go there?" she asked, nodding at the T.V., unaware that her hands were now empty.

"Mum, it'll be fine," he insisted. "We'll be completely safe. The production company has paid quite a lot of money to have private security and everything. Nothing bad is going to happen," he said, turning the T.V. off with the remote.

"You know I'm supportive of your career, dear, but I don't like the idea of you going to Colombia for anything," she replied.

Tom sighed. This was the tenth time they'd had this same discussion since she'd come over that afternoon to help him pack. He was due to be on set in Colombia in two days to begin principal photography on his latest film. They were supposed to be filming the entire picture there on location. He wasn't sure about most of the entire situation, but he'd been assured by studio and production company executives alike that he'd be completely safe. He saw his mother's concern, but he also needed her to understand that this was his job. He'd made a commitment to the film and he was planning on seeing it through. He certainly had no intentions of backing out and having the last four months he'd spent putting on muscle, learning Spanish, and doing all of the research he'd been doing be in vain.

"It's not like I'll be there on my own," he chuckled. "There will be a huge crew and the rest of the cast and plenty of security guards. It's going to be like a small city. It's going to be fine," he assured her. He stood up and walked into the kitchen. "What about a cup of tea to calm you down?" he suggested, beginning the process without waiting for her response.

"I know it's your job, love," she said. "It's just-I'm having a hard time adjusting to it. I have this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach."

"You had the same feeling when you met Sarah's first boyfriend," Tom reminded the older woman with a chuckle. "And nothing bad happened to her then," he added.

His mother shook her head. "He dumped her three months later!" she said, pointing her finger at him.

Tom laughed as he splashed milk into both coffee mugs and waited for the water to boil on the cook top. "They were fifteen!" he replied. "Three months is a long time when you're in a relationship as a teenager."

He poured the boiling water into each cup and added a tea bag to each one before carefully sliding one across the granite counter top and waving his mother over. She got up from the leather sofa and padded across the room, sitting on a bar stool as he remained standing behind the counter.

"The country is all drug lords and corruption, Tom," she continued. "Nothing good ever comes from that type of environment."

"Mum, everything is going to be fine," he insisted again. He took a long draw on his tea, enjoying the warming sensation as it slid down his throat. "They sent over pictures the other day of the locations we're filming at and they are absolutely stunning. It's like a more mountainous version of England."

She shook her head. "Lots of places are beautiful. It doesn't mean they're safe," she said into her mug.

Tom rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and placed his now-empty cup into the sink. "It's only for a few months and then I'll be back. Just in time for Christmas," he said, leaning across the counter towards her. "It's going to fly by for you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Georgie Winter dropped the book she'd been reading into her lap as she felt the sharp shooting pains of a cramp go through her leg. She hissed silently in pain as she frantically tried to massage her calf in the confines of her airplane seat. She had been sitting for the past four hours and her leg was not used to such a long period of inactivity. After several minutes and quite a few strange looks from her seat mates, she managed to subdue the offending muscle and return to normal. Flying had always been hard for her. At 5'9" she was mostly leg. It made it particularly difficult to fly because she was basically packed in like a sardine, her knees in some poor person's lower back.

She was on her way to Bogota, Colombia to begin her new job. When the production company had told her two days ago that she was headed to South America, she envisioned lounging on the beach in Brazil, soaking up the sun and watching hot guys. She did not see herself flying into the mountains and spending the next four months traipsing around in the jungle after some movie star. But that was not her decision. The company had hired her as a production assistant and that was her job. She hadn't been with them for very long and had no choice but to agree if she wanted to remain employed with them. Declining was not an option. Production assistants were a dime a dozen in Los Angeles; everyone in the city wanted to be in film or television.

"Sorry," she said to her seatmate as she tried to constrain her movements to her tight middle-seat position.

Georgie was flanked on either side by Hispanic men. Their dark skin and eyes blended in with those of the other passengers much better than her own pale ones did. They were both in nice suits while she was wearing a pair of sweat pants and a loose t-shirt. Every time she moved, she felt their condescending eyes on her, as if she wasn't supposed to be on the plane, headed to THEIR country. She picked up her book and attempted to focus on the words on the page in front of her.

Her life, up to that moment, had been remarkably dull. Growing up in the Midwest, she'd never really had many adventures. She'd never been the rebel type in high school and had gone straight to college after she graduated. She kept her head down and focused on her work and managed to eke out an acceptable 4.0 GPA before graduation, seemingly giving her the choice of many jobs. But getting a job was tough, even when you had a degree in Communications that applied to virtually everything. It seemed like everyone wanted to hire someone that was under the age of twenty-five with thirty years of work experience. It made no sense.

And that's how she'd wound up in Los Angeles. After a year of unsuccessful job interviews, she decided to relocate to see if that would change things. It didn't. Not really, at least. She'd only landed the job she was in now because she'd been lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. She'd been working as a barista in a Starbucks when someone started to choke on rock-hard biscotti. Being the only person trained in CPR, she had acted quickly and had managed to save the poor girl's life. They got to talking and Georgie found out that she was a studio executive's daughter. She offered to get Georgie a job as repayment for everything and Georgie had happily accepted. She had clearly overestimated the girl's influence.

Georgie settled back into her seat and stared at the little screen implanted in the seat in front of her. The little plane icon was hovering over the Gulf of Mexico and there were still about six more inches left before they were even over Colombia. She sighed and closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep. It was pointless because everyone knows you never sleep in the middle seat on a plane. Certainly not when you're between two men who look like they'd gladly knife you the minute you shut your eyes.

She was trying to brush up on her Spanish because she figured it would probably come in handy since she'd be living there for four months. But none of it seemed to sink in. The most she was accomplishing was announcing her complete foreign-ness and ineptitude to those around her. She may as well have been carrying around a neon sign that read "Tourist! Right Here!" and wearing a bright orange hat on her head. The Spanish-to-English dictionary was of little help and she gave up trying to read it, sliding it into her carry-on bag that was stowed under the seat in front of her.

She leaned back in her chair and tried to focus on the telenovela that was playing on the screen above her head. None of the made sense, but it was funny to make up her own dialogue as she watched. The scene was focusing on a young woman and an older man who was apparently trying to seduce her. The acting was terrible and overdone, which made the entire thing that much more laughable. She glanced down at the screen on the seat-back in front of her and saw the plane icon inch forward a tiny amount. She suppressed a groan; the flight was going to take forever.


	2. Two

Jared adjusted his sunglasses on his nose, budging them up with his forefinger. Shayla was trailing behind him a few steps, like normal, listening to voicemails that had arrived on her phone while it had been off during the flight. They had landed about thirty minutes ago at El Dorado Airport in Bogota, Colombia and he was still getting his bearings. The first time he'd been in Colombia was over five years ago while on tour with 'This is War' and he hadn't been back since. And when the plane had done its final approach over the Colombian countryside, he was reminded why; while Colombia was visually a stunning country, it was very isolated. Half of the country wasn't even inhabited and was covered in rain forest. The other half was nestled into the lush mountains, which made cell phone service somewhat difficult.

"I think this is us, Shayla," he called over his shoulder, coming to a stop in front of an older black SUV that was parked near the curb. He pointed to a sign in the driver's hands that read 'Leto' in poorly scrawled letters.

She came up next to him and nodded. "I guess so," she said, putting her phone into her purse and pulling her rolling suitcases over to the waiting driver.

The driver, an older Colombian man wearing an official-looking uniform, hoisted her bags into the open hatchback without a word. He took Jared with a nod before tossing his in the back as well. Jared followed Shayla into the back seat and shut the door behind him. Shayla pulled a sheet of paper from her bag and read it.

"We're supposed to go to Manizales, Caldas," she read to the driver when he got back in. He nodded, watching them through the rearview mirror. "How far away is that?" she asked.

"Six or seven hours, depending," the driver replied in broken English.

Jared let out a long sigh. "That's really long. Isn't there another way to get there?" he asked in disbelief.

The driver shrugged. "You could walk, Senor," he said, starting the engine. "But it will take three days."

Jared blinked. "Drive on, my good man," he said, tapping the back of the driver's seat lightly with his palm.

The last time he'd been there, they'd stayed inside Bogota, so he had no idea how far away everything was. Because of the mountains, the only way to get to most of Colombia was via car or bus on the roads. This made for some very long commutes. He settled back into his seat, pulling out a book to read as the driver navigated the crowded road and they moved onto the highway.

"Nick called while we were in the air and said the hotel you're staying at has been changed due to some type of strike in the city," Shayla informed him. "He said he didn't know much about it but he said they had to relocate everyone for insurance purposes."

"Is because of revolt," their driver said. "The locals in Manizales are fighting back against the cartel."

Jared raised his eyebrow. "Is it even safe for us to be there, then? To film?" he asked, leaning forward.

The driver nodded excitedly. "Oh yes. You are Americans. You bring lots of money to the area. You film movie and make Manizales famous," he said with a smile. Several teeth were missing in the front, making Jared unconsciously run his tongue over his own, just to make sure they were still there. "They will leave you alone. You have security anyways."

Shayla gave Jared a look of annoyance. "You mean to tell me that you brought me down here to get shot at by militant locals?" she asked him, almost in mock anger.

He chuckled. "Well you always say we never do anything exciting," he countered, leaning back in his seat. "Besides-he says its fine. Just sit back and relax and enjoy the scenery. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name earlier," Jared said, leaning forward again.

"Mateo Santiago," the driver replied, doffing an invisible hat.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mateo," Jared replied. "I'm Jared and this is my assistant Shayla."

Mateo returned his eyes to the road, which was packed with other older-model SUVs and sedans. In the distance, Jared could see the mountains looming ahead of them and he felt sleep set in. He settled into his seat and tried to fight it by focusing on the book in his lap. Extravagant cathedrals and large apartment blocks lined the roads as traffic slowly peeled away and they got closer and closer to the mountain range. An hour into the drive, Mateo pulled off of the highway into a smaller town. He stopped at a gas station and got out of the car to refuel it.

Jared got out and stretched his legs, blinking in the sunlight. He zipped up his sweatshirt against the chill in the air. Shayla got out after him and they walked around the small parking lot, trying to awaken their muscles. There was another car parked near the door to the small convenience store and two men were leaning against the hood. They slid their sunglasses down as Shayla appeared around the side of the SUV, checking her out shamelessly. Jared watched them and purposefully stepped between Shayla and them, blocking her from their view with his taller, larger body. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as they shifted to get a better view of her, taking a few steps away from the car.

"Shayla, get back in the car," he said in a quiet, authoritative tone, looking off to the side.

She gave him a confused look as she tried to get her phone to work. "Jay, I just spent eight hours on a plane and another hour in a car. I'm not getting back in there until I have to," she said nonchalantly.

"Shayla, GET IN THE CAR," he said sternly, walking toward her. He grabbed her arm and tugged her gently to the other side of the SUV, obscuring her from the two men's view. "Now," he urged. She protested as he moved her forcibly, looking around in confusion.

Jared glanced around the side of the SUV, looking to see if the two men were still there. The car was present, but they were not. His heart started pounding in his chest and the only thing that was running through his mind was the high number of abductions in South American countries. He wasn't sure about Colombia's numbers, but he was pretty sure they were high. And he was sure that a white girl from with an American accent would be considered a high earner. Shayla wasn't just his employee; she was one of his closest friends. He didn't want anything bad to happen to her. He'd only really invited her along on the trip because he figured she could explore the city and have some relaxation time. He wouldn't really need her that much during filming.

He heard a car driving up behind him and spun around to see, but it was just a family stopping by to use the restroom. The two kids got out of the rusty truck and ran across the cracked parking lot into the store, laughing and yelling in Spanish. The mother put a bag of trash into one of the receptacles near the gas pump while the father went inside after the kids. Jared's heart slowed a little as he saw that the two men had come back out of the store carrying soda bottles and got into their car. He watched them pull away through the SUV's dust-covered windows.

"What was that?" Shayla asked in confusion.

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said simply, walking away and leaning against the front bumper.

Mateo came out of the store and hurried over to the gas pump, removing the nozzle and inserting it into the gas tank opening on the back of the car. Jared twisted his torso to loosen up his tensed muscles. He turned to Mateo.

"How much longer until we reach Manizales?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question. They'd only been on the road for an hour or so; they had at least another five before they were even within spitting distance of their destination. But he wanted to clear his head of the horrible images of Shayla being abducted that were rushing through it now. "Are we staying on this road?"

Mateo looked up. "Several more hours," he said, giving Jared his now-trademark toothless smile. "We must go into mountains next," he added, pointing at the looming peaks ahead of them. Jared followed his grubby finger. "Very beautiful, but very scary roads."

Jared sighed. If he didn't relax, he'd have a nervous breakdown before they even got to the damn city. He slid into his seat, watching Shayla attempt to make a phone call outside in the parking lot. Mateo shooed her back into the SUV after he finished filling the car up. As they pulled out onto the road, Jared could swear he saw the same two men in the same car pull back into the gas station parking lot and watch them drive away.


	3. Three

Tom was exhausted when he woke up the next morning. An eleven hour flight combined with several time zone changes and a seven hour drive had wreaked havoc on his sleep patterns. He had snuck in a few hours on the plane ride, but they were mostly just small catnaps; every half an hour or so he would jostle awake at some small noise and he'd ended up more tired after trying to sleep. Then the drive from the airport through the mountains had been bumpy and full of hairpin turns and edge-of-your-seat drives near cliffs with several hundred foot drops. By the time he'd arrived in Manizales, he had been awake for almost twenty-four straight hours. He checked into the hotel and collapsed into his bed without even taking his clothes off or turning on the light to take in his surroundings.

A knock on his door jerked him from his dreams and his eyes snapped open. After a second, they focused on the clock on the nightstand and he had to blink several times, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes that reminded him of how little sleep he'd really gotten. He groaned slightly as he sat up and stretched, fighting the urge to go back to sleep. Another knock came and he jerked awake completely, taking a deep breath and pushing off of the mattress and standing up. He felt his back crack and his muscles protest the sudden movement as he shuffled across the carpet to the door. Without looking through the peep-hole, he unlocked it and pulled it open, blinking in the bright light from the hallway.

A tall young woman in her mid-twenties stood in front of him with a bag slung over her shoulder. She had on jeans and a plain t-shirt. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back in a sleek pony tail and she had on a pair of black, square-rimmed glasses that cast slight shadows under her blue eyes.

"Mr. Hiddleston, I'm Georgie Winter. I'll be your personal assistant while we're filming," she said, sticking her hand out for him to shake.

Tom had to shake his head to clear it of the sleep-induced fog before he responded in kind. "Tom, please," he replied, correcting her with a polite smile. "Would you like to come in?" he asked, taking a step back from the door.

She shook her head. "I actually came to pick you up and take you over to the restaurant to meet the rest of the cast and crew," she informed him. "They're having a lunch meeting to introduce everyone and go through a few important details."

Tom nodded and ran his fingers through his short hair. "Right-sure. I guess I'll go get changed then," he said. "Just give me about ten minutes," he added before closing the door.

Georgie nodded and gave him a polite smile. She pulled her phone out and leaned against the wall, checking her emails from the production office. She'd been in Manizales for two days and she'd had a bit of an easier time adjusting to the time change. Tom looked like he'd been hit and dragged by a semi-truck for five miles. She knew he'd arrived late last night. Ordinarily, she would have met him at the airport, but she had been too busy preparing his trailer on location and had missed the van that had gone to the airport for him.

Meanwhile, Tom was rushing to get ready. He ran through the shower, hosing off quickly. After drying off, he pulled on the first clothes he saw in his suitcase and rushed to the door. He flung it open as he struggled to pull on a pair of gym shoes. Georgie looked up in surprise as he nearly fell into the hallway.

"Are you okay?" she asked in concern, a slight smile on her face.

He nodded. "Yeah, I just don't like being late to things," he smiled. "Lead the way," he said, motioning for her to walk in front of him. They walked in silence for a few minutes and stopped to wait for the elevator. "So, that drive from the airport," he started, trying to make conversation. "It was so long," he said.

She smiled at him. "Yeah-it was the best they could do. There is another airport about three hours away, but they weren't flying or landing planes," she explained.

He gave her a curious look. "Really? Why?" he asked, holding the elevator door open as she got on in front of him.

She pressed the button for the lobby and the doors closed. "I heard something about a riot or a strike or something. My Spanish isn't that great," she said.

He nodded. "I saw something about it on the news before I left London. That's crazy," he replied. "But we're safe here, right?" he asked as they got off the elevator and walked through the lobby.

She nodded. "Oh definitely," she assured him and they walked outside. "We've got security guards everywhere. In fact, this is Miguel," she said, indicating a tall man wearing dark sunglasses and a suit. "He's one of the guards."

Tom gave the man a polite smile and held out his hand in greeting, but the man remained unmoved, standing near the back door of a car. Tom withdrew his hand awkwardly.

"He doesn't say much," Georgie explained. "He's been following me around for the last two days and the most I've gotten out of him was him pointing me to the closest restroom."

Tom nodded and got in the back seat, following her, and Miguel shut the door behind him. He got in the driver's seat and wordlessly started the car. Tom tried to suppress a yawn.

"Don't worry," Georgie said, taking notice. "This will only take a couple hours and then you can go back to the hotel and sleep."

"How are you not jetlagged?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I've been living in Los Angeles for the past year. It's not that big of a time change for me," she explained. "Just three hours ahead. Plus, I've been here for two days already."

He smiled at her tone. She seemed quite eager to please and he liked that. He'd worked with a few different assistants over the years and he'd never really had any problems with them. He didn't have one on hand all the time anymore, though. His last one had moved on to a different job three weeks ago and he just hadn't gotten around to replacing him yet. Tom made a mental note to keep Georgie on the list when the film was over, provided she performed well.

"Have you worked as an assistant for other people before?" he asked, looking out of his window at a large cathedral as they passed it.

"Not really, but I've worked in a lot of fast-paced environments. I think it's going to be good," she replied. "I have degree in Communications and I'm hoping to get into film or television production eventually."

He turned to face her. "Really?" he asked. "What type of film?"

She shrugged. "I don't really have a specific type. I just like the entire process, from creating the story and getting it up on its own two feet to filming it and editing it. I love everything," she said.

"That's cool," Tom answered. "This will be a great experience for you, then."

They arrived at the restaurant and went inside. It was a smaller family-run place, but it seemed nice. The entire crew and cast were seated at different tables in the dining room and Tom followed Georgie over to a table with an empty seat. He greeted Evan, the director, with a smile.

"You doing alright?" he asked in his southern drawl.

Tom smiled. "A little jetlagged, but I'll survive." He sat in the only open chair.

"I don't know if you've met Jared Leto, he's playing Oliver," Evan said, pointing at the man directly to Tom's right.

"No, I haven't," Tom said with a polite smile, turning to shake the older man's hand. "I'm a big fan of your work. Phenomenal," he added.

Jared smiled. "Thanks," he said simply. "Did you just get in?" he asked.

Tom nodded. "Last night-or this morning? I'm not sure. I think I only got a few hours of sleep, though," he replied.

Jared nodded in agreement. "Me, too. But the flight down wasn't that bad for us. Yours must have been terrible. You came from England?" he asked.

"Yeah. I don't know why they had me fly in to Bogota and then drive all the way over here," Tom replied. "My assistant said something about a riot or something at the other airport?"

Jared nodded. "Apparently, there have been a few disturbances in the airports, so the only one that is landing planes in this area is El Dorado in Bogotá, by order of the government. I guess they're afraid of some type of uprising or something," he shook his head in disbelief. "Some change, huh?"

Tom chuckled. "I guess," he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Evan spoke first.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he asked, standing at the center of the room. The conversations died down and chairs creaked as people shifted to get a better view of him. He cleared his throat. "Now that everyone is here, I'd like to welcome you all to the wonderful country of Colombia!" he said as a round of applause began. He smiled cheerfully. "I'm sure you all heard about the problem with the airport," he said. "But I can assure you, it's not going to be a big deal. I've been on the phone with the local officials and the Colombian government and they've told me that we're all perfectly safe here. We have a great team of security guards and everything should be fine."

Tom fought to keep his eyes open as Even continued his speech. It was the usual speech that most directors gave before filming began; everyone's excited to be here, let's all be safe, everyone work together to get the job done, et cetera. He'd heard it several times now. Tom could see that Jared wasn't really listening either, and was responding to an email on his phone instead. He glanced over at Georgia; she was sitting near a blonde girl that was about her age and they were talking politely. He yawned again, covering it with his palm.

Jared leaned over. "Don't go back to sleep," he said quietly. "Just stay up as late as you can. It'll help with the jetlag. You'll get on the local time faster."

Tom nodded gratefully. "How long have you been here?" he asked.

Jared shrugged. "We got in yesterday morning, but didn't get here until the afternoon," he replied.

"Is that your assistant?" Tom asked, pointing at the blonde.

Jared followed his finger. "Yeah, Shayla. She's been with me for a few years now. I don't really need her here, but I wanted to do something nice for her. She doesn't know it yet, but I got her a job working with a production company if she wants it," he said quietly. "I know she didn't want to be a personal assistant forever, so this might be the last time we really have any time together, you know?"

Tom nodded in agreement. "My last assistant left three weeks ago. I'm happy for him-he was with me for years. But it doesn't change that feeling, you know?" he said, leaning back in his chair.

Jared chuckled. "You got that right. I'm gonna miss her if she takes the job. Mostly because I don't want to have to break a new one in," he said.


	4. Four

Jared knocked on Tom's hotel room door, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he waited. The hotel was the biggest in the city but it was booked completely up by the production crew and cast. They were supposed to stay there for several weeks before moving on to a series of rental houses further up in the mountains when they went to film on location. Jared knocked again and stopped bouncing as one of the maids approached. He gave her a polite smile and watched her pass by.

Tom's door flew open and he stood there in surprise. "Oh, hi," he said, pulling a jacket on. "What's-uh-what's up?" he asked.

"We were headed out for a coffee and wanted to know if you wanted to join us," Jared suggested, gesturing to Shayla next to him. He gave Georgie a nod when he saw her emerge behind from him. "Or just go on a walk around town or something," he added.

Tom paused and then nodded. "I-uh-sure. We were just about to do the same thing," he said. "I thought you were going to be busy with something. Evan told me that you were probably going to be working on other things while you were here."

Jared moved aside to allow the two of them to step into the hallway. "I'm taking a break from music for right now. My brother and I...let's just say we had a difference of opinions and we decided to take a step back from the band and focus on other things," he said carefully.

In truth, it had been much more than a difference of opinion. It was actually more like a meltdown of Mount Vesuvius proportions. Shannon was desperate for a break and Jared wanted to get into the studio and record another album. They'd agreed to take some time and recuperate from their last tour and come back around Christmas and see where they stood.

"I know a great coffee place," Jared said. "My brother discovered it a few years ago. He said they're still there and they have the best coffee and tea."

Tom shut his door behind him and shrugged his jacket on tighter. "He has that coffee company, right? Black something?" Tom asked.

"Black Fuel Trading Company," Jared corrected him.

They walked down the hallway to the elevators with Shayla and Georgie following them. Their light conversation continued as they waited. Georgie stood awkwardly next to Shayla, unsure of what to say. She tried to speak several times, but felt embarrassed and decided it would be better just keep her mouth shut.

"So how long have you been Tom's assistant?" Shayla asked eventually.

"Oh, I'm not his official assistant, like you are to Jared. I'm just the production assistant the studio gave him," Georgie explained. "I guess he had one, but he left to go work for some big production company in London. So here I am," she added with a smile. "How did you end up working with Jared?"

The elevator arrived and they all got on. Shayla gave her a polite smile while they waited in silence. She always hated talking about Jared in from of him. It felt weird and he almost always gave her crap about it later on. Instead, she gave Georgie a 'wait-a-minute' signal and waited until they had gotten out of the elevator before speaking again.

"I started working as a second assistant-just helping out around his house and helping his then-assistant Emma get things organized and everything," she started. "And when Jared promoted Emma to the COO of a production company he's an investor in, he asked me if I wanted to have Emma's place. So here I am."

They walked up the street, following the two men from five steps behind. Georgie could hear them talking about different films that they liked.

"Do you like being his assistant?" she asked. "I've never really done this before, so I'm kind of just winging it."

"It's really long hours and a lot of time away from home," Shayla replied. "But he's a really great guy to work for. He's very generous and gives me loads of time off when he's not busy. It sort of offsets the long crazy hours I work when he's on tour or doing press for a film or album."

Georgie nodded. "So you guys are close?" she asked.

Shayla laughed. "In a manner of speaking, yes. We get along pretty well. Sometimes he can get on my nerves because he can be very exacting in terms of what he wants," she smiled. "But he's usually a really nice guy and lots of fun to work with when he's not under lots of stress."

"That's good," Georgie said. "I don't really know how to get on that level with Tom," she admitted.

"Learn the small details-how he likes his coffee or tea, what his favorite foods are, if he's got any dislikes, his favorite music, all of that. Those are what really get people's attention and give them the personal feeling," Shayla said. "You want to make your client feel like you know what he wants before he even thinks of it himself. If you do well, maybe he will ask you to replace his old assistant. That's how Emma got her start with Jared."

Georgie shook her head. "I don't think so," she laughed. "Tom lives in London. I live in Los Angeles. I'm not sure I could move across the world for a job like this."

Shayla shrugged. "I thought all of the traveling and the distance was hard at first, too. But I got used to it. I also realized that I was lucky enough to go to all of these incredible countries and see all of the amazing sights, all because I was working with Jared. It's a lot of work, but the perks are pretty awesome," she reasoned.

Georgie nodded and walked silently next to her for a second. She was always saying how much she wanted to do more traveling. But the idea of having to work insane hours kind of turned her off. She shook her head to clear it. 'You haven't even gotten the job yet, moron,' she thought to herself. 'He's probably going to offer it to someone else, anyways.'

They arrived at a small corner café that had a hipster vibe to it. There were a few tables and chairs scattered around the café and the walls were lined with vintage Spanish film posters. The bar took up one side of the café, with its lighted pastry display case and chalkboard wall behind.

"Bienvenido a un mundo del café," the barista said, giving them a welcoming smile.

Jared paused near the case and looked up at the wall, hands in his pockets. Tom surveyed the wall for a moment before turning to Georgie with a smile.

"Know what you'd like?" he asked, reaching for his wallet. Georgie opened her mouth to protest, but he held a hand up to stop her. "Don't worry about it. It's on me. You're not really working just yet. Its fine," he smiled.

She stepped up to the counter and asked for a small black coffee, but the barista gave her a confused look.

"No English," she said with an apologetic look.

Tom nodded and stepped in, ordering for both of them in perfect Spanish like a local. When Georgie gave him a confused look, he shrugged. "I learned Spanish for the role. Plus, I figure I'm going to be living here for several months; it can't hurt to be a little familiar with the language."

The barista took Jared's order-provided by Tom as well-before she set about making their drinks. Jared led them over to a small booth at the back of the shop, where they were unlikely to be spotted.

"You don't speak any other languages?" Tom asked as he slid in next to Georgie.

She shook her head. "Not really. I probably should learn at least one. It would help out a lot," she laughed lightly. "What do you speak?" she asked.

"English, obviously, decent French and now decent Spanish, apparently," he chuckled. "Well, decent enough to order coffee. We'll see if I got it right here in a second."

He and Shayla went to get the drinks and a slow Latin song came on the speakers, playing softly in the background. They sat in silence for a few minutes and Shayla's phone buzzed. She excused herself to answer it, walking out the back door. A second later, they heard her scream. Jared shot up from his seat, abandoning his coffee. He jogged to the back door, followed by Georgie and Tom.

"Shayla?!" Jared called, his voice tense and nervous. "Shayla, are you okay?!"

He pushed the back door open and saw her standing in the alley behind the café, phone in hand and tears down her face. He rushed over to her, his heart in his throat.

"Are you okay?" he asked, one hand on either shoulder. He leaned down a little to look into her face easier.

Tom and Georgie exchanged a confused look and then Shayla shakily pointed to something behind the door. Everyone turned to look at it and they stopped in their tracks. A dead body lay in a pool of fresh blood, against the brick wall of the café. Georgie tried to fight the urge to vomit, but couldn't hold it back. She turned away and bent over, puking a few steps away. Tom exchanged looks with Jared and went to go see if Georgie was alright. In truth, he didn't want to look at it and Jared seemed unfazed by it for some reason. Tom guessed this wasn't the first dead body he'd seen, but he didn't think it was the right time to ask.

Jared took a few steps closer to the body, leaning over to examine it a bit better. There was a single bullet wound to the forehead and the man had sustained several strong hits to the face because it was completely bruised over. His leg was lying at a strange angle and blood had soaked into his shirt, staining it dark brown.

"Shayla, go stand over there," he said, waving her over toward Tom and Georgie.

She did as she was told, her heart still pounding. She'd just come outside to get better reception for the phone call and she turned around and there he was. She clenched her hands into fists to try to stop them from shaking. She watched Jared go inside and figured that he was getting the barista to come and figure out what they should do. Jared gestured to the girl, hoping that it would be enough to get his point across. After several seconds of miming 'come with me' she finally nodded and stepped out from behind the counter and followed him out the back door. They emerged into the shaded alley a second later and Jared pointed to the man behind the door. Tom walked over to try and act as a translator.

The woman let out a scream like Shayla's, holding her hand over her mouth in shock. She reached into her apron pocket, pulling her cell phone out. She dialed the number in, speaking rapid Spanish to no one in particular.

"She says that this is the fourth time someone has dumped a body here," Tom translated, glancing between the woman and the others. More words came out of her mouth and  
Tom struggled to keep up with her rapid-fire speaking. "I-I think she called the police-and-and I think she said there's nothing they'll be able to do. She said that this man had been missing for weeks and that this was the cartel's doing," he finished. The woman walked a few steps away, not paying any attention to them. Tom walked over to her. "Should we stay?" he asked in Spanish, gesturing to their group. She shook her head and spoke to him.

"What did she say?" Georgie asked, clutching her weakened stomach.

"She said we can leave," Tom answered. "The police won't need our statements, apparently. This happens at least once a week here."

Jared looked at Shayla. "Are you okay?" he asked, for the third time.

She nodded. "I'll be fine. Let's- let's just go back to the hotel," she replied.

Jared nodded and they walked out of the alley and onto the busy street. Tom blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes to the sunny streets. It seemed like a completely different world. Nobody had any idea that a man had lost his life and was unceremoniously dumped in a back alley like a bag of trash. He shook his head, glad that he had not met a similar fate.


	5. Five

It took Jared a while to shake the image of the dead man from his mind. That night, as he lay in bed, it kept coming back to him, haunting him. The man probably had a family-a mother and father, maybe even a wife and kids. He had people out there who were looking for him, who wanted to know where he was. Jared briefly wondered if the man knew that he was loved, if there was some sign that told him that people out there loved him and missed him and wanted him to come home. Jared kept imagining the different scenarios that could have caused the man's demise; maybe he owed them money or maybe he was just unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Jared sat up in his dark room, rubbing his face. Insomnia was something he thought he had conquered a long time ago. But for whatever reason, tonight he just couldn't seem to shut his brain off. He looked at the clock on the nightstand and sighed, reaching for the remote control. He turned the T.V. on, but there was no reception. All he got was static. He frowned and changed the channel several times, getting static each time. He got up and looked behind it, checking to see if all of the cables were hooked up properly. He tried again, but got nothing.

He sat down at the desk, deciding to respond to some emails instead, but found that the internet had been disconnected. Grumbling, he pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants before grabbing his room key and a pair of slippers and walking down to the elevators. Normally, he wouldn't care about the T.V. not working or the internet being down, but it was three in the morning. He couldn't very well start playing his guitar, like he normally would. And he didn't think he had the patience to focus on a book. He just wanted a mindless distraction that wouldn't require him to pay much attention.

The elevator dinged open and he got out, walking around the corner to the lobby. It was a modern space, with angles and edges, trying to keep up with the current interior design trends. But designer sofas and two-way fireplaces couldn't hide the age of the building. Cracks ran along the spackled ceiling and several tiles had been re-grouted and replaced. As he walked closer to the front desk, he could see two of the concierges having a heated debate in hushed tones. His Spanish wasn't great, but they seemed to be pretty stressed out over something. He cleared his throat as he approached, announcing his presence. They looked up, plastering false smiles on their faces.

"Hello, sir," one said. "How can I help you?" he asked.

Jared rested his elbows on the counter top. "I just wanted to let you guys know that the internet isn't working," he said politely. "Neither is my television. I don't know if that's just me or the entire hotel, though."

The concierge nodded. "Yes, the internet is out for the entire hotel," he said, giving Jared a strained smile. "And the television satellites are not working, either. We do apologize for the inconvenience. It is like that across the city. Most of the television broadcasts are out of order."

"And what about the internet?" Jared asked.

"It is out across the city, unfortunately," the other concierge said. "We've been told that a disturbance occurred near the main server on the outskirts of town. They are working quickly to solve the issue, though."

"Disturbance?" Jared asked. "What type of disturbance?" It had been sunny and nice all day. There wasn't any type of rain or storm coming toward them for several days; he'd checked on his phone earlier because he wanted to plan some hiking trips into the mountains. "It wasn't rainy or anything."

The first concierge gave him a reassuring smile, though it did little to assuage his concern. "Don't worry, sir. It will be fixed, soon. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you," the man repeated. "I am sure the issue will be resolved in the morning."

Jared opened his mouth to speak, but realized he was probably not going to get much further with them. They were recycling their responses and that was usually a sign that there was no more information to share. He gave them a polite nod before turning and walking back toward the elevator. The moment the two men thought he was out of earshot, they resumed their tense discussion. He waited for a moment behind the corner, hoping to hear something that would clue him into the situation, but they were speaking too quickly for him to decipher anything. He got on the elevator and pressed the button for his floor.

He leaned against the wall as the elevator rose and he felt the familiar jerk just behind his belly button as it dropped slightly before settling on his floor. He pushed off the wall and got out, padding up the hallway and stopping in front of Shayla's door. He paused for a second, sure that she was probably sleeping. He tried not to bother her when she was off because she worked so hard for him normally. He raised his hand to knock, but then thought better of it, turning to across the hallway to his own room. He kicked off his slippers and flipped off the lights, peeling his t-shirt off as he walked around the foot of the bed.

Something caught his attention in the distance and he turned to look out of the window. He was on the top floor, but the hotel was only seven floors tall. He had to strain on his tip-toes to see into the horizon. In the darkness, an orange glow hovered across town on one of the mountains. Jared thought it was a forest fire or something because of all of the fires they had in Los Angeles. He squinted, trying to focus his vision in on it to make it out better, but he was unsuccessful. It was too far away. He sighed and closed his curtains, throwing himself into total darkness. It was way up in the mountains, dozens of miles away. Even if it was a forest fire, he was certain the production staff would alert them before it became a serious issue.

He stubbed his toe on the metal leg of his bed and cursed loudly, hopping around clutching his injured foot. He eventually turned himself around enough to plop down onto the bed. He bit his lip to keep from making any more noise, rubbing his fingers over the injured appendage. After a moment, the pain seemed to dissipate and he stood back up again, throwing the blankets on his bed back and crawling in. He felt his body sink into the memory foam mattress and the cool of the sheets against his bare skin. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax his body into sleep.

After several minutes, he switched positions, trying to find the right angle. After about fifteen minutes and five different positions, he let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn't getting any sleep tonight at this rate. Then the idea hit him. He was already awake; why not make the most of it? Jared pulled a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand and slid his other hand under the waistband of his sweatpants, grasping himself. He closed his eyes and thought about one of the many girls he'd spent time with in the last few months, choosing his favorite to focus on. If he wasn't going to sleep, at least he could entertain himself.


	6. Six

The next morning, Georgie had a hard time getting out of bed. She'd barely slept the night beforehand and her mind kept drifting back to the dead man. Tom had been kind enough to buy her a cup of tea later that afternoon and just sit and talk with her in his room. They talked about quite a few things, but she knew he was just trying to distract her from her thoughts. She'd never seen a dead body before in person and she always laughed at the ones on T.V. shows or in movies because they looked so...fake. But seeing it in the flesh-brain matter and all-changed things. It was nothing like on T.V. or in the movies.

She learned quite a bit more about Tom-he preferred tea to coffee and his parents were divorced like hers were- and they seemed to create a bit of a bond. He didn't seem that affected by the body, but then again, he was an actor and he was probably a lot better hiding his emotions and feelings than regular people were. Georgie and Tom had spent most of the afternoon and evening together, talking and getting to know each other. She even helped him run lines. But when the darkness fell and Tom started yawning, Georgie excused herself halfheartedly.

It wasn't that she was developing an attraction to him; that would have been incredibly foolish and unprofessional. It was that she didn't want to face the night alone with just her thoughts and her imagination. And when she met Tom in the lobby that morning, she could tell that she wasn't the only one of them that hadn't slept much. He had dark circles under his eyes and he kept closing them for several seconds at a time while he waited in line for breakfast.

"Eat quickly," she informed him as he joined her at her table. "You've got to be in makeup in twenty minutes."

He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the bowl of cereal in front of him. He picked up the spoon and started eating, staring at the table.

"Didn't sleep well, either?" she asked, drinking her coffee.

He gave her a confused look before nodding in understanding. "Yeah-I-uh-yeah," he said slowly. "I'm still adjusting to the time change and catching up on sleep. I'll be fine in a day or two." She knew he was brushing over the elephant in the room.

She nodded and handed him a call sheet. "This is what they're doing today. Nothing hard. Mostly just shots of you guys walking around, from what I can see," she explained.

He took the pink sheet of paper and looked it over before putting it to the side. Jared was at the next table over, looking slightly worse-for-wear, having a hushed conversation with Shayla, who still looked on the verge of tears. Georgie was secretly glad that she wasn't the only person who was still shaken up. Tom finished his cereal, though he wasn't really that hungry and they got up and headed to set to get into makeup. They were filming a short distance from the hotel and walked the block and half over, accompanied by Miguel.

The streets were busy as the sun was rising, casting a golden glow on the buildings. Most of them looked run-down and were in need of a paint job and a few fixes. Cars zoomed past them and locals scurried about. A bus stopped near the corner and several people got off as more people got on. Miguel's sheer height made the crowds part for the most part. Everyone was too busy worrying about their own things to really notice them walking. After about fifteen minutes, they arrived at the set and Miguel left them there. A local volunteer checked their credentials and moved the barrier to allow them to pass by.

The set was an extended strip of street, about a quarter mile long. Large tractor trailers were parked along the road. The doors were marked with their purposes to identify them. A small tent had been set up between the costume and hair/makeup trailers and several members of the crew were sitting on folding chairs underneath it. As they walked past it, Georgie could see several coffee makers sitting on the table, surrounded by paper coffee cups. She stopped at the hair/makeup trailer and led Tom inside, climbing up the steps.

"Good morning!" one of the girls said. She greeted them brightly with a warm smile. "Mr. Hiddleston, my name is Elyssa and I'll be your makeup artist for the shoot."

Tom took her extended hand with a smile. In the walk over, he'd woken up a bit. He settled into the chair and Georgie hovered near the door. "Nice to meet you, Elyssa," he said, suppressing another yawn. "I know I shouldn't complain, but I'm exhausted," he chuckled.

She smiled. "Tell me about it. I've been up since four this morning. The first day of shooting is always harder," she remarked. "Your makeup is pretty simple, but just to be safe, I'll run through it with you so you know what we're going to do," she explained.

Tom tried to pay attention, but his mind just wasn't in it today. He found himself getting distracted by her cheerful voice and smiling eyes. Strands of her brown hair had fallen out of her ponytail, evidence that she'd been awake and working long before he was.

"Four in the morning? That's really early," he remarked. "When did you get to sleep?"

She thought for a second. "I think midnight, maybe?" she replied. "I'm not one of the heads of this department, so I get off when my stuff is all cleaned up."

"Are you anyone else's makeup artist?" he asked curiously.

"Nope," she said. "The perks of being one of the stars; you get me following you around all day, fixing things," she chuckled.

"Lucky me," he said with a flirty smile.

He knew that she was off limits. But it didn't mean he couldn't flirt with her. Hell, she was about to spend the next three to four months staring at his face every morning for an hour and then following him around for the next sixteen or so. She leaned over his shoulder and wrapped a cape around his neck to protect his clothes. She set about applying his makeup, transforming his face little by little.

"How long have you done makeup?" he asked, closing his eyes for her to apply foundation.

"A few years," she answered. "I got into it through one of my friends and it just stuck," she smiled.

Georgie left the trailer once she was sure he would be okay for a few minutes and went in search of tea for Tom. She passed several different trailers and had to keep an eye out to make sure she didn't trip over the bundles of cords that were lining the ground. People were chattering all around her and between the hum of the trailer engines and the different people talking, it was pretty loud. Eventually she found the Kraft Services tent and hurried back to find Tom. By the time she arrived back, he was finished in hair and makeup. His face had been brightened up a little bit and a few false scars were added to give his character a more rugged look. The scruff on his face had been dirtied up a little bit.

"Tea," she said, handing him the cup. "Earl Grey, splash of milk, sugar free."

He took it with a surprised look on his face. "I-uh-thanks," he said with a smile.

He followed her out of the trailer and through the maze of temporary buildings and tents. He and Jared were sharing a trailer because of space constraints and they found him inside, getting his own makeup done. Georgie gave Shayla a confused look.

"I thought all makeup was done in the trailer," she asked, nodding her head at Jared.

"It's too small to have more than five people in there at once," she explained. "He doesn't need much, anyways. Not as much as Tom, anyways," she added, giving the other man a smile. "Good morning," she said to him. He greeted her likewise.

Tom sat on a chair on the other side of the trailer, looking over the call sheets for the rest of the week. Georgie walked over next to him, unsure of what she should be doing. Jared broke the silence.

"Did you guys hear?" he asked. "Last night the internet and T.V. were out at the hotel. Apparently there was some big disturbance at the main server or something over in the mountains," he explained.

Georgie gave him a surprised look. "Really? That's strange. It's still not working. Apparently they're having connectivity issues all over the city, not just here," she said, passing the information along to everyone.

Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? That's kind of crazy."

"I saw what looked like a big fire last night, up in the mountains over there," Jared said, pointing toward the mountains through the window.

Following his finger, Tom could see a cloud of smoke over the mountain and he shook his head. "That's insane," he said.

"Yeah, I saw it at like three o'clock this morning. It was strange," Jared nodded in agreement. "I asked the concierges about the internet and T.V. being out and they told me it would be fixed by morning. Guess not."

A knock came on the door and Elyssa was standing there when Shayla opened it. "I was just told to fetch you and bring you down to set. They're ready to shoot," she said, putting several makeup brushes into the brush belt slung around her narrow hips.

Tom got up and followed Georgie out of the trailer and Jared finished getting ready. As they walked through the little hamlet of structures, they saw quite a few people lined up behind barriers that had been set up further behind the trailers. A long trail of dolly tracks lined the sidewalk and the cameraman was walking behind the large device as it was set up. As they walked, the din from the production trailers disappeared, but Georgie heard a chant start up from a distance. Tom stopped and looked at her in confusion. Evan came over to them, shaking his head.

"What's going on?" Tom asked in concern.

"It's the locals. They're upset about something," Evan replied. "I guess they thought that there would be more jobs available for the locals. I don't know what the studio told them, so I have no clue what's wrong beyond that," he explained. "I've told them that I've spoken with the studio, but it doesn't seem like it's enough. The police are keeping them under control, so we're just going to shoot as normal and ADR everything later tomorrow."

Tom paused to listen to the chants, hoping to pick up a word or two but the trailers and street noise were too much. All he could hear were the words, 'fair' and 'lies'. It made little sense to him so he shook his head to clear it and focus on the scene in front of him.


End file.
